Letters to Ladybug
by TheNovelArtist
Summary: It had been an accident, their correspondence. But now, three years later, it was the one thing they both looked forward to. They have a chance to meet at a masquerade ball, but fate seems to have other plans to keep them apart. Or does it?
1. Chapter 1

This was supposed to be a one-shot.  
But it grew out of hand.  
So, this is a prize for a contest/birthday gift/gift for writing an incredible story ;)  
Hope you enjoy MiniMinou!

* * *

Had you told Adrien that by the age of eighteen, he would fall in love with a girl he never met, he would have scoffed and shook his head at the absurdity. Yet, as the eighteen-year-old prince clutched her newest letter to his chest, staring out the window of his room, his mind mulling over the words that were so elegantly written on the page, he found that was precisely what had happened.

How this secret correspondence started was truly a mystery. He certainly wasn't trying to start a correspondence when he hid his notebook full of poetry in No Man's Forest between his kingdom and the adjoining one. It was to keep that embarrassing hobby from his father. However, two weeks later, when he returned to fetch it, there were notes hidden with it. The note had to have been written by a female if the paper decorated with ladybugs and perfumed with flowers were any indication. It had started with an apology for taking the book and reading it, hoping she did not cause trouble to him, yet that she found the poetry enthralling and wonderfully romantic.

His mother often teased him for being as curious as a cat, and in this instance, his intrigue was too high to simply walk away. He took the book back to his room, having discovered a place he knew his father would never find it, then proceeded to write a letter. He placed it as well as a copy of his newest poem in an envelope titled "For The Curious Ladybug" and hid it in the same spot he had hidden his poem book despite not knowing if she would ever return to the spot.

But she did.

Three years, their correspondence had gone on with a letter being exchanged once a week. He'd kept every single letter and drawing—she was an absolutely incredible artist—she'd ever sent him, and he couldn't help but wonder if she, too, had a chest of his letters and poetry hidden in her room.

A knock from his door startled him out of his reverie. "Yes?"

"It's Nino."

Adrien relaxed. "Come in."

The door opened, allowing his best friend to enter. He quickly spotted the letter in Adrien's hand and gave a shake of his head. "Your lady love has responded?"

"Plagg just retrieved it for me," Adrien confirmed.

Nino's smile grew. "You are so smitten."

"I can't help it!" Adrien said, tossing his hands in the air with all the pent-up passion he had for this woman. "She's incredible, Nino. She's witty and clever and creative and—"

"Buddy," Nino said, halting Adrien's rant. "I know. I hear you argue in her favor all the time."

Adrien sighed. "I'm sorry," he said, rubbing his eyes. "It's just…" He shrugged, knowing if he said a word, he would launch into another rant.

"You haven't even met her yet."

"I don't need to to know my feelings are real."

Nino gave him a pitying smile. "I think your head is too far up in those clouds."

"Well, you aren't the only one," Adrien mumbled. Plagg said the same thing. Constantly. The cranky knight was always complaining about going to fetch letters when Adrien couldn't or how he had to listen to Adrien be a romantic sap.

"I think you should meet her before you determine that."

His ears must have been deceiving him, for there was no way Nino would encourage such behavior. "If I could, I would, Nino," he said. "In a heartbeat. Unfortunately, despite my wildest dreams, I doubt she would agree. She was the one who came up with the schedule so we would never see each other."

"I know," Nino assured, his tone belaying his exasperation. "She prefers to remain anonymous."

Adrien nodded, turning toward the window once again.

"Which is why you'll be happy the ball your father is determined to throw is a masquerade."

His heart nearly stopped as he whipped around to face Nino once again.

His friend was smiling, something borderline cocky but mostly smug. "Ask her to meet you there."

His heart skipped once, then twice. Hope suddenly bloomed in his chest. Why hadn't he thought of that before? And at a masquerade, too. She was insistent upon not revealing herself, so she never would. Yet they could meet. They could talk in person. He could ask a question without having to wait a week for a response. He could dance with her, hold her, create poetry in person about her beauty.

For she was sure to be beautiful; he knew it.

Before Nino could say another word, Adrien was at his writing desk, hurriedly gathering the materials he needed to respond and ask her if she would do him the honor of meeting him at the masquerade. Whether she would agree to it or not was a mystery he preferred not to ponder over at the moment. He much preferred to lose himself in his writing.

* * *

Marinette felt as though she was floating on air. She wasn't allowed to leave the castle today due to lessons she'd been postponing, so Tikki swore she would retrieve the letter for Marinette. She lived for these days, to read the letter her mysterious Chat Noir wrote to her. His poetry always sent her heart racing, and as of lately, his writings were about her and his love for her. How they could be so in love despite having never met, she didn't know, but she would never question if their love was real.

A knock on the door startled her back to reality. "Marinette?"

She startled for only a moment before she recognized Tikki's voice, which had her running to the door. "Yes?" she said, swinging the door open.

Tikki's expression was pure delight as she extended an envelope to her.

With a squeal, Marinette snatched it and threw her arms around Tikki. "Thank you, Tikki. You are the greatest and I am forever I your debt."

The young woman chuckled. "You're quite welcome, Marinette," she said, briefly returning the hug before putting Marinette back at arm's length. "Now, go read it and tell me all about what scandalous poem he wrote you this time."

Marinette felt her cheeks warm. "It wasn't truly scandalous."

Tikki hummed in challenge. "Clandestine meetings between two forbidden lovers?"

If Marinette's face wasn't ladybug red, she would be surprised. She had to chastise Chat Noir thoroughly in her last letter for that. It was almost too easy to picture the two of them together, dancing to the song of the night, fireflies lighting in tune with the chirping crickets, moonlight illuminating the features of her lover.

And that hadn't been the most salacious part. She resisted the urge to press her fingers to her lips just recalling the way he'd written a kiss. She had been red to her chest after that.

Tikki giggled. "Let me read the poem and we're even."

"Fair enough," Marinette quickly agreed before retreating into her room with Tikki in tow.

Settling down on her chaise lounge, Marinette wasted no time in opening the letter, pulling out the multiple pages. The poem was always first, and she always read it first.

Once to devour, twice to absorb, three times to truly appreciate.

"Considering your blush, it must be romantic."

Lip between her teeth, Marinette bashfully looked up at Tikki. "It is."

With a grin, Tikki extended her hand, and Marinette parted with the poem. Only then did she read his letter to her.

_My Dear Ladybug,_

_I must apologize for letting my writings become indecent. It was not, nor is it ever, my intention to make you uncomfortable. Perhaps I let my feelings run away with me too far, so I humbly beg for your forgiveness._

Marinette bit her knuckle in shame, for it hadn't been his writing that made her uncomfortable.

It had been the way she had wanted such affection from him.

She was almost sad how he swore he would temper his writings, but it was for the best he did. They were strangers in a sense, and wishing for a stranger to kiss her passionately while laying along the grass in the night was not acceptable for a princess.

She continued to read through the three-page letter he'd sent her, leaving as little out as he could. They had agreed to keep their identities secret, meaning that she had no idea of his station just as he had no idea of hers. The only thing she had to go off of was the quality of paper and how practiced his handwriting was. She could determine he was of the upper class, but nothing beyond that.

_Finally, my dear ladybug, I have one last thing to ask of you. Seeing as I am uncertain you will even be able to grant me this wish, I write it hesitantly. In the Papillion Kingdom, there is to be a masquerade ball that will include most members of the upper class of both Papillion and Miraculous Kingdoms. I hope beyond the greatest of hopes you will be able to meet me there. It will afford you the secrecy you wish to keep, yet indulge me in my strong desire to meet you in person. _

_I will not lie to you by saying I will not be saddened if you cannot attend. Though I know you may realistically not be able to grant me my wish, my hope is still very high. Should you respond positively, I will be leaping with joy until the masquerade. There are few things more I want in the world than to be able to meet you in person._

_With all my love, Chat Noir_

Her heart was fluttering, and her cheeks were warm. She couldn't temper down her smile at the thought of meeting him. While she had wanted to keep secret, she couldn't deny her desire to meet him, too.

She was interrupted from her thoughts by the poem reappearing in front of her. Marinette took the page from Tikki and stacked it reverently with the letter.

"Marinette," Tikki said with a sigh, "You should know I still don't fully approve of this love letter writing, but for all that is good, his poetry is the finest I've ever read."

Marinette giggled, her cheeks thoroughly pink. "Isn't it, Tikki? It makes me feel warm inside."

"As such writing should." Tikki placed the back of her hand to her forehead in a mock faint. "Oh, tis so romantic."

The girls shared a giggle before Tikki took her leave. "I know you have a very busy evening ahead of you, after all, responding to his letter. Just be sure not to stay up too late into the night. You have duties to attend to in the morning."

"Thank you, Tikki."

With a smile, Tikki shut the door behind her, leaving Marinette alone to respond to his letter.

* * *

Adrien walked out of his father's office, his heart breaking into smaller pieces with each step. His father hadn't done anything wrong this time around; Adrien was a prince, and it was his duty to protect the kingdom in any way he could. In this case, it meant forging an alliance between his kingdom and the Miraculous Kingdom.

And that was done through marriage.

Plagg met up with him as he walked through the halls to his room. The man was normally stoic and snarky, but he could always tell when Adrien was upset. "What happened?"

"I'm engaged to be married, apparently," Adrien answered.

"To whom?"

"Princess Marinette, the sole heir of the Miraculous Kingdom."

Plagg gave a single nod to show he heard.

"There are rumors of war going around," Adrien said. "Not anyone waging war against us, but rather war between two kingdoms up north."

"And I'm afraid I've heard those rumors, too," Plagg confirmed. "A couple royal guests were complaining about it. Things are growing tense."

"In order to stand a chance should things grow out of hand, we are allying with Miraculous to strengthen our army."

Plagg simply nodded. "Understandable."

The young men were silent as they marched into Adrien's room. Plagg was quick to shut the door and pull an envelope from his black vest. "As ridiculous as this letter writing is, I think you'll appreciate a distraction."

Adrien looked at the letter, his heart beginning to flutter until he realized he would have to stop correspondence with her soon enough. It wouldn't be proper for a married man nor would it be fair. He may not know Princess Marinette, but he would be a perfectly respectable husband to her.

He took the letter, though his heart was breaking into tinier pieces with each passing moment. "I can't keep writing her."

His admission, though quiet, was enough for Plagg to frown in sympathy. "I know. But what are you going to do if she accepted your invitation to meet?"

Adrien's gut sank through the floor while his heart completely missed a beat. "I… I don't know."

Plagg gave him a pitying look. "You'll think of something." With that, he left Adrien in peace.

* * *

She had, in fact, accepted his invitation stating she was to be there, too and she couldn't stand being in a room full of people knowing he was there yet not knowing who he was.

Which left him with the decision that he would meet her, spend a good portion of the night with her, and inform her that no matter how much it broke his heart, their correspondence would have to come to an end. He could only hope she would understand.

However, there was one catch to his plan. Namely, that his father had recently become insistent that Adrien spend the entire masquerade with Princess Marinette in order to get to know her better before the wedding.

"That," Nino said, launching an arrow at the target, "places you between a rock and a hard place, my friend."

Adrien nodded, absently noting how Nino's recent shot put him in the lead. "I'm fully and dreadfully aware."

Nino hummed in thought as Adrien set up his shot. "Maybe you could slip away long enough to meet her."

"I don't know," Adrien said, right before he let the arrow fly. It struck the outside of the target, but Adrien couldn't bring himself to care. "I don't know how insistent this Princess Marinette will be to stay by my side. Furthermore, I fear my reputation will proceed me."

Fiddling with his bow string, Nino grunted. "Possible. But it's also possible this girl isn't like Lady Bourgeois."

"Or Lady Rossi."

"Or Lady Raincomprix."

"Or the countless other women who've made a hobby of throwing themselves at me."

"To be fair," Nino said. "You are a good-looking fellow who just happens to be in line for the throne."

Adrien snorted. "Is it too much to ask a woman have some decency?"

While nocking his arrow, Nino hummed. "I don't know much about women. It possibly could be."

Adrien could only shrug while Nino sent his last arrow flying towards the center of the target.

With a winner's grin, Nino turned back to Adrien. "Four rounds out of seven?"

Adrien snorted with a smirk. "I don't think I'm up for it. I don't think I was up for the first three."

"You weren't."

"Some friend."

Nino smirked.

With that, Adrien called the servants to clean up the arrows. "Thank you," he and Nino both said when the men came to take their bows.

"My main fear," Adrien continued once the two men were out of earshot of the servants, "is that Father is demanding I stay by Marinette's side the entirety of the night. Even if this Princess Marinette lets me go, Father will not be happy. I doubt I'll even get the chance to greet Ladybug."

Nino hummed thoughtfully. "Knowing your father, I'm going to say that's a very likely possibility."

Adrien grunted his agreement.

"What if…" Nino paused in the hall to think. "What if I stole her away from you for a dance or two?"

"What if she's stubborn and won't go?"

"Who's stubborn?"

The two men turned to see Plagg siding up to them.

"Adrien's complaining about having to dance with Princess Marinette instead of his Ladybug."

"How dare you betray me," Adrien scowled at his friend, Plagg sniggering in the background.

"What is the issue?" Plagg asked, his amusement settling. "You don't have to spend the entire night with her."

"I might," Adrien corrected. "And worse yet, Ladybug already agreed to meet me. She is already going to be attending the dance, so even if I tell her I cannot make it, it will be torture knowing that she is still there."

"Shame you can't be in two places at once," Plagg snarked.

And that's when inspiration struck. "But what if I could?"

Both his friends halted, meaning Adrien had to turn around to face them. "What?"

"Whatever plan this is, leave me out of it."

Adrien frowned at his friends' chorus. "Please, one night."

"What do you even have planned?" Nino asked.

"I don't think we want to know," Plagg chimed in.

Nino then completely betrayed Adrien by nodding his agreement to Plagg.

"It's a masquerade," Adrien said. "Meaning that no one is truly going to know who's behind the mask—"

"No," Plagg quickly said. "No, no, no—"

"I never finished asking."

"But I know you enough to know where you're going with that thought and for the last time, no, I will not don a mask in your place."

"Please, Plagg."

"No."

"And that's a no for me, too," Nino spoke up. "Not happening."

"Ah, please," Plagg dismissed. "Your skin tones don't match. Even if Adrien did convince you, you'd be outed by his father immediately."

Adrien scowled, meaning he really only had one option. "Plagg, _please_. I'll never see her again."

"You shouldn't have started talking to the girl in the first place."

"But I am, and now I asked her to come and she's going to be there and there's no way I'm not going to be able to not search for her and—"

"Buddy," Nino interrupted. "Take a breath."

Adrien did as told, biting his tongue for a good moment. "Please," he begged.

Nino and Plagg exchanged a look before turning back to Adrien. "Look," Plagg began. "Even if I agreed, that puts you in a bad position because there is no way the princess isn't going to ask questions and start conversations. And then… what? I act like you best I can then she meets the real you that doesn't recall anything that she talked about with you—rather, me—that night? There's no way she'd believe it."

Adrien frowned as his plan fell apart at the seams. He looked up at his friends: Plagg who was hiding a slight winner's smirk and Nino who looked like he would beg Adrien to reconsider this whole scheme.

"What if…" he said, plan forming in his mind. "Nino, what if you went with him—"

"Why do you have to drag me into this?"

"Because I need you to convince the princess that Plagg is me and then vouch for me when we meet again outside the mask."

Nino groaned, rubbing his hands down his face slowly. He mumbled something completely unintelligible before letting his hands drop. "We aren't getting out of helping you, are we?"

"No," Adrien said matter-of-factly.

With one last exasperated look exchanged between Plagg and Nino, they sighed. "Fine!"

"You guys are the best friends a man could ask for."

* * *

Marinette felt numb. Some part of her mind recognized that the only thing keeping her upright was the fact she was leaning against the door to her room. Her breath came in long draws, not staccato bursts caused by near tears. It was as though she was in a trance she wasn't going to surface from any time soon.

She was engaged to be married. To a man whom she'd never met.

Slowly, she sank to the floor, the world seemingly blurring away. Usually, meeting her parents was never an issue. They never asked anything severe of Marinette and were always immensely kind, but her stomach had tightened when she entered her father's office only to see the pitying looks on her parents' faces.

They told her she was to marry Prince Adrien of the Papillion Kingdom, the one across the way from No Man's Forest. Her parents never wanted to force her into a union, however, their kingdom was small, as was the Papillion kingdom. They needed to unite if the rumors of war between two other kingdoms up north turned out to be true.

"We're sorry," they had repeated several times.

Despite her heart breaking and her stomach full of nerves, she had nodded. "I'll do what is needed for my kingdom."

And she would, even if it meant breaking off correspondence with a man who had somehow captured her heart.

A knock on the door startled her back to reality. "Marinette?"

Marinette gave a soft sigh of relief at the voice of Lady Alya, her closest friend. She forced herself to stand in order to answer the door. "Yes?"

Alya's expression was sympathetic. "I heard everything," she said. "I'm so sorry."

Marinette quickly tugged Alya into the room and shut the door.

"I hear Prince Adrien is a kind man," Alya offered, forcing a pitying smile. "Handsome, too."

"But does he write poetry?"

Alya's expression fell again.

Marinette collapsed on her chaise lounge. "Worse yet, I am supposed to dance with this prince the entire masquerade even though I agreed to meet Chat Noir."

Alya bit her lip, though quickly corrected the behavior she'd been scolded for many a time.

Marinette's frown grew. "I wanted to meet him, Alya."

"You already swore you would."

"And I want to keep my word."

Alya pursed her lips in thought. "We'll figure out something," she eventually said, voice full of determination that was so common for Alya. "Don't you worry."

Another knock on the door called their attention.

"Who goes there?" Marinette called out.

"It's Tikki, your highness."

"Come in, Tikki," Alya called before Marinette could answer. "Please, and help us with something."

Tikki entered the room, her brow already knit together in curiosity. "What's wrong?"

"Marinette is arranged to be married."

Tikki gasped, nearly dropping her tray of tea. "To whom?"

"Prince Adrien of the Papillion Kingdom," Alya answered.

"Oh," Tikki said, setting the tea tray down before she did drop it.

"But that's not the main issue, Tikki," Marinette said, sitting up from the chaise to look at her maid and close friend. "You know I already promised to meet Chat Noir at the ball."

"But supposedly," Alya finished, "she is supposed to dance with Prince Adrien for the night."

"And I want to meet him," Marinette continued. "I want to meet Chat Noir, but… but what if the prince insists we stay together the entirety of the evening? What if he won't let me sneak away?"

"Surely, there's a way," Tikki insisted, her expression firm.

"We know there is. There has to be," Alya said. "If we could only distract him with a dance, maybe."

"Could I pass him off to you, Alya?" Marinette asked, hope suddenly filling inside her heart.

"A dance is hardly enough time," Tikki said. "And Marinette promised to meet Chat Noir during the beginning of the night. Lastly, what if the prince is upset because he's not dancing with Marinette. That would only sour the relationship between you and the prince."

Alya scoffed. "If he's upset he doesn't get her the entirety of the night, that is not Marinette's problem."

"True," Tikki admitted. "But this is the first impression. It has to be a good one."

Alya frowned, tapping her finger to her lips in thought. "There has to be a way for Marinette to sneak off to meet him for the night and meet her masked ma—"

Marinette and Tikki regarded Alya curiously. "What is it?" Marinette asked, dread sinking in as she watched a smirk grow across her best friend's face.

"What if," Alya slowly spoke, her smirk growing more and more devious, "you _don't_ dance with the prince all night because we give him another 'princess' to dance with."

"And where do you suppose we find another princess?" Tikki snipped sarcastically, her hands on canted hips and brow quirked challengingly.

"Not a real princess," Alya said. "Just someone who could appear as one for the night."

With a smug look, Alya stared at Tikki. And Marinette felt very lost as she looked back and forth between the two women.

In a flash, Tikki's expression turned to horror. "No!" she said. "No, I am not going to pretend to be Princess Marinette."

"For a night, Tikki," Alya said. "And you'll be wearing a mask, no one will know."

"Oh please, Tikki," Marinette begged, hope sparking within her. "Would you?"

"The prince won't have it," Tikki insisted, shaking her head.

"Not if I'm beside you the whole time making sure everyone believes you are the princess," Alya said. "Trust me; nothing could go wrong."

Instead of responding, Tikki leveled Alya with a doubtful glare.

"Tikki," Marinette pleaded. "I'll never get the chance to see him again. And I already gave him my word I would be there. I do not want his last memory of me to be believing me to be a liar who toyed with him. Please."

While she stood with her arms crossed resolutely, Tikki's resolve did not last long. She couldn't argue with Marinette's sad expression. "I'll do it," she relented. "Just because it's you."

With a squeal, Marinette leapt from the chaise lounge to engulf Tikki in a hug. "Thank you, Tikki!" she said. "I owe you all the cookies in the world."

* * *

"I can't believe you made me do this," Plagg hissed at Adrien.

"And that I have to play along," Nino mumbled.

"Quit your whining!" Plagg snapped. "You have the easy job of the two of us."

"Stop it, both of you," Adrien interrupted before the fight could intensify. "Honestly, you're acting like children."

Plagg whipped around to glare at Adrien. Or, so Adrien assumed. It was impossible to tell with the black mask Plagg wore.

"I owe you two for this," Adrien said.

"And we'll remind you until that debt is repaid," Plagg growled.

Before any more bickering or complaining could arise, Adrien grabbed his friends' shoulders to give them a thankful squeeze before disappearing out into the back gardens.

* * *

"Thank you again for this, Tikki."

Fiddling with her dress, Tikki sighed. "It's so fine," she commented.

"Of course, it is," Alya said, slipping on her mask, one that was colored a vivid orange and decorated with black and white designs. "You are supposed to be a princess for the evening."

"Don't worry, Tikki," Marinette assured, grabbing her friend's hands and giving them a reassuring squeeze. "Everything will be just fine."

"I hope so," Tikki said, worry clear in her tone. "I certainly hope so."

* * *

Considering that he'd looked all over the expansive gardens and had yet to find one other person, Adrien knew he had to be the first to arrive. His Ladybug had not yet showed for the evening. Until she did, Adrien was certain his palms would be sweaty and heart would continue its rapid pace. It was odd how excited he was to see her, but tonight, he was nothing if not nervous. Why, he didn't know. This was his Ladybug, the woman who brightened his day—nay, his _week_—with sweet letters and lovely drawings. His favorite had been a dancing couple, simply because he could easily see it being them.

And tonight… tonight, it would.

But his heart sank because he knew he would have to tell her tonight that this would be their one and only meeting. That after tonight, their correspondence would be no more. He would have to tell her of his arranged engagement, but he wouldn't until the end. Tonight was a night he was determined to enjoy.

"Chat Noir?"

His heart may have been galloping before, but now it was completely stopped. He was frozen, rendered useless by his nickname said by the sweetest of voices coming from behind him.

He forced himself to move, to look behind him, only to discover a petite lady in a red dress that made her skin look particularly milky in the moonlight. Her hair was piled on her head in thick, black curls that gleamed blue. It was truly a shame her eyes were covered by an ornate red mask. He was desperate to know what color they were.

However, that thought only lasted a second, because his next thought was just how similar the red of her mask was to the red of her lips.

He forced himself to swallow. "My Ladybug?"

Those lips curled up into a smile that made his knees week. He'd only written about such reactions, but to experience them himself, to be at his Ladybug's mercy…

It was a whole new experience.

"'Tis a pleasure," she said, her voice gentle and sweet and smooth, "to finally meet you in person."

That voice would ring in his head for years, he was certain of it. "The pleasure, my lady," he said, taking her hand in both of his, bowing low over it, "is all mine."

He then pressed a kiss to her knuckles and swore she gasped at the contact. But then again, it was entirely possible his ears were playing tricks on him.

He better keep his heart in check tonight because he knew if he wasn't careful, this woman would end up stealing it, whether it was her intent or not.

* * *

Marinette laughed as he guided her around the gardens with surprising ease. She discovered he was light on his feet. It was the second thing to have discovered about him, the first being he was very handsome with his golden hair and well-tailored black suit. Even though his mask was stunning as well, different from the typical domino mask worn by men at masquerades, she found herself sorely disappointed that it covered his eyes. How she wished to see what color they were.

However, his looks or dancing ability or even his heart pounding poetry had nothing on his tongue. She quickly discovered that it was the one thing she had to be immensely careful about. Her heart couldn't take his constant teasing or his flirting. And his voice.

_Oh_, his _voice_.

Smooth and rich and happy. So happy.

Her heart was already captivated, she knew. And breaking it at the end of the night would be torture. She made it a point not to look at the clock tower, but she knew their time would be over far too quickly.

Far, far too quickly.

"My lady, what is the matter," he purred, concerned. His hand gently guided her jaw so she would be forced to look at him. "Your smile is so lovely. Why the frown?"

It was a struggle not to bite her lip. They had barely been together an hour, yet he already knew her. "Nothing," she assured. "It's nothing you need to concern yourself with."

He looked at he skeptically. "Only if the lady insists," he said, his tone proving he was not convinced.

"I do," she said, forcing on a smile. "Now, lead me around once more before we go exploring."

"Exploring?" he asked, the curious lit in his voice so alluring.

"Yes," she said, smile widening. "I do have a penchant for gardens, particularly at night. They take on a whole new life in the moonlight."

"The flowers close, though, do they not?"

"Not all of them," she said. "And the ones that don't, they look striking in the cool tone of the moon."

His smile was another very dangerous thing about him. It would be far too easy to get used to that smile. "An artist through and through."

She grinned. "You truly enjoy the drawings, then?"

"Very much so," he assured. "I keep them protected and safe, for such a collection of works should be preserved to the best of my ability."

"You preserve them?" she asked, surprised.

"With every last one of your letters."

Her heart was pounding, and her head was light. Heaven help her, she just might pass out at his confession. He kept them. Just like she kept his, he kept hers.

"What caused you to become a poet?" she asked, hoping to direct the conversation elsewhere.

He smiled. "My mother," he answered. "She loved poetry, but never took the time to write it. So I began writing it for her. Even after she passed, I couldn't contain myself. It was my escape, even though my father disapproved of the activity entirely. Thank goodness for a friend who warned me to hide my poetry before my father discovered them in my room. And…" he trailed off, looking at her with what she would guess was reverence. "And I was blessed enough that my hiding spot led me to you."

Her heart was in her throat, and she forced herself to swallow. "You weren't upset with me, were you? I know you said you weren't but you could have lied to me."

His smile widened. "No, I was never upset with you. I couldn't be, not when you validated me as a poet. My new favorite hobby had become writing poems for you, my lady."

She was certain she was blushing.

The song floating faintly from the castle came to an end, and she and Chat bowed to each other, as was custom.

"Come," he said, reaching out to take her hand. "I know the garden's well. I'll guide you."

"Thank you, Chat Noir."

The resulting smile caused her own to grow. "Anything for you, my lady."

* * *

Adrien wanted to curse the clock, the one that was showing how little time they had left together.

Ladybug was nothing short of miraculous. If he wasn't engaged, he would have proposed to her on the spot. He would have begged her to let him see her eyes, to take off her mask so he could know what she looked like when she smiled. Even if she wouldn't grant him that wish, he'd thoroughly enjoy the push and pull teasing that would transpire between them.

Alas, he wouldn't ask. He couldn't. Meeting her, he determined, was hard enough knowing he had to end their possible romance tonight, all correspondence along with it.

"Chat Noir," Ladybug spoke up, her voice still so sweet but hinting at nervousness.

"What is it, my lady?" It was a struggle to bite back his urge to call her his love. She was a ladybug, as evidenced by her red dress with black accents, but she had to at least be a lady. That title was appropriate and therefore created a distance. One not afforded with the endearment 'my love'.

Because she would never be.

"I…" she paused, looking away before finding the strength to look back at him. "It is with deep regret that I tell you this."

His heart sank. "What is it?"

She sighed, clearly gathering her courage. "I answered your letter with the desire to meet you," she began. "To know who the man behind the poems was. However, days after I responded, my parents informed me that they… they arranged a marriage for me."

His heart clinched. The fact that he, too, was engaged wasn't lost on him, and he found it now as good of a time as any to admit it. "Then, that makes my unfortunate news easier to bear," he began. "For I, too, have just been arranged to be married. I only discovered very recently, after I had already invited you to meet me."

Her smile was bitter, a look he did not like on her. "Then what an unfortunate coincidence," she determined. "That both of us must cease our correspondence."

He nodded. "It broke my heart when I discovered it. Your letters were the highlight of my week. The thought of loosing it will be so disappointing."

"Likewise," she agreed. "I'll miss your poetry, severely. You are such an incredible writer. Your poetry was always full of the sweetest romance. I've never read anything like it. But, it seems fate was cruel and the only poetry of yours I will ever read again is the poetry I've stored under my bed."

His heart leaped. "You mean… you mean you've kept it?"

Her smile was one he wished to kiss. "Of course," she said. "I couldn't bear parting with it. Not then, and not now. They are my own collection that I will treasure forever."

His heart swelled with pride and adoration for this woman. This beautiful woman he wanted to have for his own but knew he couldn't.

"I suppose, then," Ladybug continued. "This is good-bye."

No. He didn't want it to be, no matter how right she was. He looked at the clock again, then listened to the music floating from the castle. "No," he said, standing from their seat. He extended a hand to her. "Grant me one last dance, my lady, before our good-byes become official."

She looked at his outstretched hand long enough for the last few notes of the song to come out into the night. Just when he thought she was going to turn him down, she gave him a smile and placed her small, soft hand in his. "How could I refuse?"

* * *

Marinette was a coward. Truly. After that song ended, she was too scared to leave him and therefore granted him one last dance. And when the time came for them to part, she nearly ran from him.

But he stopped her.

"Grant me one last wish before midnight," he begged.

She couldn't say no. "What?" she asked, her voice week and whispery.

"What color are your eyes?" he asked. "I've been desperate to know all night, and I thought I could resist, but I was wrong."

She wanted to know his, too. She wanted to know what color eyes she'd been staring at this entire night, but she couldn't allow herself to be privy to such knowledge. She couldn't. For her own sake.

"Blue."

The clock chimed midnight, breaking the spell between them, and she ran.

She ran even though her heart was breaking with each step and tears wanted to spill over.

She avoided the ballroom. Instead, she scurried through the halls of the Papillion castle, her new home, and to the room that would become her own. The one that was connected to Prince Adrien's room.

Tears threatened to spill over, and she barely made it to her room before they did. Ripping off her mask, she tossed it onto the bed, then leaned against the door, slid down it, and let her tears overtake her.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Hey look! Novel finally finished part two. XD _

* * *

"I hope you're happy," Plagg snarked.

Nino snorted. "Don't let him fool you," he said with a grin. "He enjoyed his time with the princess just fine. A little _too_ well, if you ask me."

Plagg growled at him.

But Adrien wasn't really paying attention. His mind was fully on a woman with dark curls and creamy skin that was complimented by a vivid red dress. And blue eyes.

Blue eyes he never got to see.

He sighed. Just as well. He was to meet the princess today. He needed to not be focused on a woman that he would never see again. A woman who was engaged to be married herself. A woman he needed to forget.

He wished he could say he would with a little time, but he had a feeling that it would be a vain effort. He would not be able to part with her letters or drawings. He couldn't not have something to remember her by. Maybe time would dull the ache of her absence, but he couldn't see forgetting her happening.

A knock on the door signaled the time for Adrien to meet his father in his office, where there would be an official introduction to his new wife and her family. Reluctantly, he headed to the door. Before he could exit his room, Nino grabbed his shoulder, giving him an apologetic smile. Plagg grabbed his other shoulder. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

From Plagg, that meant a lot. "Thanks," Adrien said. "I still owe you two for last night."

"You do," Plagg agreed. "Later. For now, go meet your new wife and tell us how wonderful she is."

Adrien gave them a thankful smile before heading out the door to greet Nathalie.

"Your father is waiting for you in his office."

Adrien nodded. "Thank you, Nathalie."

She nodded before marching off.

"Well," Adrien said, straightening his coat. "Here we go."

He marched down to his father's office, hands clenched so they wouldn't shake. He was nervous, for he was to meet his new wife shortly. He was a prince; he'd been raised for this, yet he feared what this woman could be like. What if Adrien didn't like her? What if she was like Chloe or Lila or any of the other women who clung to him for his looks and status?

He shook his head clear. Whoever she was, she would be his wife, and he would treat her well.

He gave the door to his father's office a knock before he entered the room, only to find it empty sans his father at the desk. Adrien stood by his father's right shoulder, ready to greet the woman who was to be his bride.

Moments later, the royal family of Miraculous walked in. Adrien's gaze immediately landed on the young princess, and his eyes widened. She was beautiful, to be sure. Black curls cascaded over her milky white shoulders. The red of her dress was striking, and it reminded him far too much of another woman he'd met.

"King Gabriel," the King of Miraculous, a large man, greeted with a bow. "Prince Adrien."

"King Tom," his father returned. "Queen Sabine, Princess Marinette."

The women curtsied.

"Adrien," his father suggested. "Why don't you take the princess on a tour of the gardens."

It wasn't a suggestion; it was a demand. "Of course, father." He walked over to the princess and offered his elbow for her to take. "Shall we?"

She looked at him, that disappointed tilt of her lips replaced by a look of surprise. Slowly, she placed her arms around his elbow. "We shall."

* * *

He was handsome, Marinette would give him that. But he was quiet. That couldn't be his personality; Tikki assured her that last night, the prince couldn't stop talking to her.

She tried to convince herself the silence gave her more time to process the events of last night and attempt to hide her heartbreak. However, she knew it was hardly fair to Adrien that she wasn't trying to be more friendly. He was to be her husband, and she would submit like the wife she had been raised to become.

Suddenly, a rose appeared before her. It startled her a moment, causing her to look up at the man who held in in front of her.

"I know that this is sudden," he began. "For both of us. But the last thing I wish is for us to be on poor terms. Forgive me for not being talkative this morning. I suppose I'm lost for words. I haven't the faintest idea what to say to a woman who is to become my wife before the week is over."

She looked at the peace offering: a red rose that was rich in color. Then she looked back up to Prince Adrien, taking in his golden locks and handsome face and vivid green eyes that she could see herself getting lost in. This was to be her husband, and he was clearly extending a peace offering here and now with a rose and a reassuring smile.

Slowly, she took the rose from him, then let a small smile loose. "How about we start with a hello, then you could tell me… what's your favorite hobby?"

* * *

The wedding was made to be a much bigger event than it should have been. People in the streets celebrated the union between the kingdoms, knowing it would bring security and trade, and therefore, prosperity. However, according to Plagg, the townspeople were just pleased to have an excuse to throw a festival.

At least it brought happiness and cheer. Adrien wouldn't deny his kingdom that.

After the ceremony at the church and the large, joyous banquet held in honor of the newlyweds and united kingdoms, Adrien wanted nothing more than to go to bed for the night. However, the woman walking at his side reminded him that there was more than sleep to a wedding night.

Adrien glanced at his bride, one who still dawned her wedding gown and veil. They had been shooed up to his room by the half-drunk crowd in the banquet hall that was sure to be sent away soon enough. And even though they had traversed the halls together, they hadn't spoken a word to each other. Marinette had yet to look his direction, or even raise her gaze from the floor.

He led her into his room, opening the door for them. She let go of his elbow and stepped inside, still never looking him in the eye. He knew why. No matter how well they had gotten along, the fact was they still only knew each other for barely a week. He guessed she wasn't any more comfortable than he was with the prospect of what the night was supposed to entail.

"Marinette," He said, shutting the door behind him. "I have a proposition."

Finally, she raised her eyes to look at him. Even in the low lighting, he could tell those blue eyes of hers held fear. Though they'd only known each other a short time, he already knew he hated that look on her. She was charming and sweet; innocent and child-like. Roses amused her more than jewelry did. And she held herself with pride and competence, but never once was she cruel.

The best part was he didn't think it was an act. He'd watched her from a distance many a time, and never once was she any different than when he was by her side. This was a woman he could learn to love, but for right now, his love for her would be shown as respect for her comfort. His wife she may be, she clearly wasn't comfortable with being here with him.

He couldn't have that.

"Yes?" she asked.

He sighed. "I don't think… either of us are ready for tonight."

He saw the beginnings of a blush on her cheeks and chest as she turned away from him.

"My proposition is that we consummate our marriage at a later date."

After a moment, Marinette turned back to him. "But won't your kingdom be expecting an heir as soon as possible?"

Adrien sucked in a breath. "That is true," he said. "But I'm sure they won't mind waiting another one or two months before then."

She looked surprised to say the least. "I…" she swallowed. "I would appreciate it more than you know…"

His smile faded. "What is it?"

She bit her lip. "In my kingdom," she said. "There is a tradition where someone is sent to peek into the bedrooms after a wedding night and report to the court. It's… it's supposed to signal if the wife was submissive or not. If she was in her husband's bed, then the court is assured she is a good wife. If the husband is in the wife's, then she forced her husband to chase her, and it's not seen as a good sign."

"And you're worried that tradition will extend here," he finished.

She nodded, bowing her head and gaze locking on the floor once again.

He sighed. "Then," he began. "How about this?" He reached for her hands to hold in his. This got her to look back up at him. "We both share my bed tonight," he said. "I cannot let disgrace come to your head. But we still do not have to consummate our union tonight. We can wait."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "You're certain?" she asked.

He gave her a smile he hoped was gentle. "I think it would be for the better."

"I'm certainly not going to argue with you," she said, her posture already less rigid. "But… I do need one more thing."

"And that is?"

Her blush returned full force. "Um… I'll need…help… out of my wedding dress."

* * *

Marinette didn't want to get out of bed. Surprisingly.

Yesterday had been her wedding, and she had mentally prepared herself the previous week for the wedding night. But after her husband fully assured her that he'd rather wait, the tears she had held back all day wouldn't stay in. He'd been so gentle with her last night, holding her caringly as she cried herself to sleep.

She knew he was a good man. He was a bit reserved, but over the week she'd known him, he'd proven himself to be considerate and gentle. His smile was sweet, and he always regarded her with respect. Maybe that was what had made it easier to accept that she would have to give herself to him on her wedding night.

Yet, when it came down to it, she'd been worried, even though she did everything she could to be strong.

He'd helped her escape the confines of her wedding dress, but he never made any move to cause her to think he stepped back from his promise. He allowed her to escape to her room, where she found a night gown to wear. Only then did she return to his room to see that he, too, had changed out of his wedding ensemble and into a pair of night clothes.

Actually, only a pair of night pants. He was bare chested, which only caused her face to heat.

Yet, even in that state, he never stopped reassuring her, and she didn't feel uncomfortable with him. Even as she cried that night, still flabbergasted yet thankful that he did not want to claim his marital rights immediately, he was patient and kind with her.

She was sure he would be a good husband to her. As a princess, she was extraordinarily lucky in that respect. She supposed she really was a Ladybug.

Her eyes were heavy to open, but when she did, she found her husband was laying awake on his back, clearly lost in his thoughts as he stared up to the ceiling. Tentatively, she reached out to rest a hand on his shoulder.

Immediately, he turned to her and gave her a smile. "Good morning," he began quietly.

"Good morning," she returned, her voice hoarse from the tearful night. "Did… did you sleep well?"

"I did," he assured, rolling over on his side. "Are you feeling better?"

She nodded, still feeling a bit embarrassed for crying so much last night. "I am, thank you."

He took hold of her hand and kissed her knuckles. "I'm glad."

She gave his hand a squeeze. "And thank you," she said. "Thank you for everything."

His smile brightened. "You're welcome."

"I mean it," she said, squeezing his hand tighter. "Thank you."

He gave her hands a squeeze back, and as she looked into his eyes, she felt safe here with him. "You're very welcome, Marinette."

* * *

Even before he'd met Marinette, Adrien knew he would need to pursue her faithfully and be the best husband he could to her. Though he had once worried it might be a struggle, Adrien found himself more than willing to go out of his way to woo his lovely wife. Her smile was a thing of beauty, her eyes always taking on mirthful gleam. Her laugh was quiet and reserved, with him, but he'd once heard her unabashedly laugh with her lady-in-waiting, and he wanted to make her laugh like that.

One day, that would happen. He was sure of it. But that wouldn't happen unless he found her.

Instead, he found Plagg leaning idlily a wall.

"Don't you have work to do?" Adrien challenged.

"It's amazing how much more I can get done in a day when I don't have letters to go fetch," he said, standing upright. "Is that for the princess?"

Adrien glanced at the rose between his fingers. "Yes," he said.

Plagg nodded. "It's good to see you wooing her."

"She is my wife. I think it should be my duty."

"Not all men would think that," Plagg said.

"I'm not all men."

"That is true," Plagg admitted. "But, surely you find her worth wooing in the first place."

Adrien pursed his lips. "True," he admitted. "I know I don't always have the best of luck, but I _was_ lucky enough to be blessed with a decent woman to be married to. Particularly since it was arranged."

"Very lucky," Plagg said. "I just saw her in the sunroom, if you wanted to know. Her and her lady-in-waiting are there."

She wasn't alone, then. Shame.

"I'm sure I could convince Nino to distract said lady, if you want," Plagg said.

Adrien quirked a brow. "You're being oddly helpful."

Plagg smirked. "Not because you deserve it, that's for sure. You still owe me. But Nino and Lady Alya did strike it off quite well at the masquerade."

"Did they, now?" Adrien asked, surprised. "Why wasn't I told?"

"Nino didn't think it was important with all the other events and issues happening. You were heartbroken over your Ladybug as well as engaged to marry a woman within a week of meeting her. A fast time for a marriage, might I say, but it was done in good timing. One of the kingdoms to the north threatened Kingdom Miraculous right before the wedding, only to retract it once the union took place. Together, we are larger than either one of those kingdoms."

"Not by much," Adrien said. "But with those two kingdoms being in a scrimmage with each other, neither one can afford to get into battles that would cause them to use resources. Whether or not we'd win isn't the point, but we are strong enough to cause them some serious trouble."

Plagg nodded. "Hopefully, it discourages either of those kingdoms from coming after us. The last thing we need is to get into a war we have no stakes in."

Adrien nodded. "Let's keep our fingers crossed, shall we?"

"At this point, it's all we can do. Now, go woo your princess."

With a smile, Adrien patted Plagg's shoulder. "Get back to work."

"I'm resting," Plagg retorted. "One of the many things you owe me."

"I'm sure you can find better things to spend that favor on than a nap, Plagg," he sassed back.

Plagg chuckled. "True," he said, standing from the wall and marching off. "Very true."

* * *

"I'm proud of you," Alya commented, snapping Marinette from her reverie.

"Pardon?"

"You haven't read any of Chat's letters since you got married."

Marinette sighed, her heart hurting at the mere mention of the letters. She hadn't read them even though she wanted to. She was trying to distance herself as much as she could from Chat so she could give everything she could to her husband.

Alya must have sensed her internal struggle. "Hey," Alya said, setting aside her needlework. "You should draw something for him."

"Who?"

"Your husband," Alya said. "He doesn't know you draw yet, does he? You should surprise him with something."

Marinette sighed. "I don't know, Alya."

"Why not?" she challenged. "It would be good for you to draw something. You haven't touched a pencil since you learned you were engaged."

Alya was right; it had been hard to bring herself to draw again since half of the joy of drawing had been from being able to give it to Chat.

Before Marinette could give Alya an answer, her friend had already rung the bell. "And when someone comes up to answer, we'll get you some drawing supplies. I have no doubt you'll thank me later."

It wasn't long before Marinette had some paper and charcoal before her. Now, the largest question was what to draw in the first place.

She stared at the paper for a while before a rose appeared before her. Startled, Marinette spun around to see Adrien standing behind her. "Good afternoon," he greeted with a smile. "I came to give you a small gift that made me think of you."

She looked back to the rose, her heart skipping a beat. "For me?"

"Who else?" he teased. "Of course, for you, my dear."

_My dear? _she thought, taking the rose from him. He'd yet to call her any endearment, so this one felt sweetly genuine. "Thank you. It's beautiful."

He smiled. "I was going to ask if you would take a walk with me," he began. "But I didn't know you were busy."

"I'm not," Marinette said, happily setting aside the paper. Her muses simply weren't coming, and she was pleased with any distraction at this point. "I would love to go for a walk with you."

The happiness in his expression was enough to warm her heart and encourage her to do anything she could to see it again. "Then, my dear, shall we?"

She wrapped her arms over his extended elbow. "We shall."

* * *

The knock on the door startled Adrien. He'd been so focused he hadn't noticed Nino enter his office. "How long have you been there?" he asked, leaning back in his chair and begging his heart to slow down.

"Not long," Nino said, stepping fully into the office and shutting the door behind him. "I was looking everywhere for you, buddy."

"Sorry," Adrien said. "I've been preoccupied."

Nino gave a nod. "With?"

"Poetry."

Nino's eyes widened. "You haven't written since Ladybug."

"That was only a few weeks ago."

"Six," Nino corrected. "You used to write daily."

Six? Had it really been that long since he'd written his last letter to Ladybug? That would mean that it had been around four weeks since he'd seen her and three since he married Marinette. Where had the time gone? It still felt like only yesterday he was blessed enough to have the opportunity to dance with her.

"No matter how irritating you get with your obnoxiously romantic writings," Nino teased, "It's good to see you writing again."

Adrien gave a half smile. "I'm really struggling with this poem, though. Verses for Ladybug used to come so easily. It's hard to write something for Marinette."

"I don't get how, but what do I know?" Nino said with a shrug. "Can't you write things like you did for Ladybug."

"No, I have to temper any feelings, for one," Adrien began. "Our relationship is still new, and I don't want to startle her with profound love confessions that wouldn't be completely true in the first place. We haven't consummated our marriage yet; you know." Adrien felt a light blush dust his cheeks. He'd only told Nino after his friend had given him a large amount of ribbing the week after his marriage. "And our relationship is blooming really well right now. I have to be careful."

"So write about that," Nino said as though it was obvious. "About how you want a relationship with her."

Adrien stared at the page, Nino's words rolling through his mind. A blooming relationship, like the roses she liked so well. "That's not a bad idea," Adrien said, pulling out a clean sheet of paper.

Nino snorted in amusement. "Glad I could help. I'm not going to be able to convince you to shoot some arrows now, am I?"

"No."

"I figured as much."

* * *

He was a beautiful poet; she couldn't deny it. His writing was very touching and earnest, but all she could think of was how it wasn't Chat.

"I'm a horrible person," she muttered.

"No, you're not," Tikki chastised from where she stood at Marinette's dresser, putting away the clean laundry.

Marinette turned around in her seat to look at Tikki. "You don't even know what I'm thinking about."

"I don't have to; you're not a horrible person."

Marinette sighed, turning back to the poem on her desk. "But Adrien wrote me a poem—"

"He's a poet?"

"And a good one," she said. "But all I can think of is Chat."

Tikki gave her a pitying look before walking up to Marinette and wrapping her arms around her shoulders. "I'm sorry," she said. "It must be hard, but you have to admit that Adrien has been nothing but a good husband to you."

"I know," Marinette said, reaching up to hold Tikki's arms in place. "Which is why I feel so horrible comparing his work to Chat's."

"I'm sure that soon enough, Adrien's poetry will be all you think of," Tikki said.

"If he writes me any more."

"Tell him you loved it. I'm sure you can subtly encourage him to continue writing more things for you. I know!" Tikki said, pulling back from her embrace. "What if you drew him a little something?"

Marinette chuckled. "You and Alya both suggested that. But the last time I tried, I couldn't think of anything to draw."

"That's because you always used to draw when you were inspired by Chat's work. What if you drew something based on what Adrien wrote you?"

Marinette looked at the poem with newfound interest. "Do you think so?"

"I think anything to put a smile back on your face when you have a pencil in your hand would be a good thing."

Marinette stared at the poem, images of roses coming to mind. "I… I suppose it wouldn't hurt to try."

* * *

Adrien had to admit, waking up with Marinette at his side was growing to become one of his favorite things. How he found such a simple thing so enjoyable, he didn't know. But he was now very used to the comfort of having her to hold at night and having her holding him in return.

He gave into the urge of kissing her temple and was rewarded by a sleepy smile.

He was a very lucky man, indeed, that he was granted such a luxury as this.

Adrien was reluctant to move from his spot, knowing he would wake her if he did. Therefore, he spent time thinking of a new poem for her. In response to the first poem he gave to her, she responded with a drawing of roses. For a moment, he had felt as though he was conversing with Ladybug all over again, and that had driven him to write more for her.

While he tried his best to not compare her to Ladybug, he failed more often than he cared to admit. He even started looking through Ladybug's drawings again with a hope that maybe something would spark an idea for a poem for his wife. Nothing had caught his interest as of yet, but he wasn't finished. He still held out a hope that he'd find something.

After all, he relished any time Marinette rewarded him with a smile. He wanted to see how large and uninhibited it could be.

* * *

It had been five weeks since the wedding, and Marinette could say that while she had yet to fall fully in love with her husband, she would admit she was on her way to. It was hard to not fall for him a little when he was such a gentleman.

And if Marinette were being honest, the fact he wrote her poetry helped a little.

It felt as though she was with Chat again, him sending her romantic poetry. This poetry was far tamer, expressing only budding feelings, yet it held a genuineness that touched her in a similar way that Chat Noir's poetry did. It also helped spark her desire to draw more often. So, when Adrien presented her with yet another poem a few days ago, she spent her time drawing a scene for him. One that he depicted in his work.

She knocked on the door to his office, only for the door to crack open. "Adrien?" she called out. Except he didn't answer.

Carefully, she pushed open the door, only to find the office was empty.

She frowned. She'd wanted to give this to him in person, but she'd already searched everywhere and still couldn't find him. She supposed she could just leave it on his desk for him to find when he returned. Surely, he would find it a nice surprise.

She walked into the room to place the drawing on the desk, only to catch sight of another image. It caused her to pause, as she stared at the upside-down drawing: the image of two people dancing.

It was impossible to take her eyes off the drawing. Slowly, she placed her current drawing down on the desk so she could reach for the one that held her full attention. One that felt so familiar.

One that she'd given Chat.

As she stared at her drawing, one that had been folded in order to fit in the envelope, her mind started reeling. There was only one reason he would have it. One way he could.

And she wasn't sure her heart could take the answer.

It couldn't be that simple, could it? That Adrien was Chat Noir? No. Certainly not. Tikki said she danced with the prince that night. Adrien had spent the night dancing with Tikki.

But then she thought of that night, thought of the man who had led her around the garden. Thought of his stature, his hair, his voice. And all she could see… was Adrien.

Her breathing increased. Didn't he tell her that night that he had an arranged marriage as well? That he would have to cut off correspondence to be loyal to his future wife.

Tears threatened to spill over as she set the picture down.

"Marinette?"

Instantly, she spun, coming face to face with Adrien.

* * *

He was surprised to see Marinette in his office. However, it certainly wasn't an unwelcomed one. What _was_ unwelcome was the tears in her eyes.

"My dear," he cooed, ready to take her into his arms and hold her until she settled. "What's wrong?"

"You're Chat Noir?"

He froze, his eyes wide and chest suddenly tight. "P-pardon?"

"You're Chat Noir," she tearfully choked out.

As he watched the tears trail down her cheeks, he snapped to action, quickly wiping them away with his thumbs.

"You're my Chat Noir," she whispered, staring up at him.

And that's when it hit him, his gut sinking and breath growing short. "Ladybug."

A choked-up sob escaped through her smile. "Hello, my Black Cat."

His world was suddenly spinning as he was suddenly taken back to that night, of dancing with a woman in red, her black curls shining in the moonlight. His eyes then locked on hers at the memory of him catching her before she ran off, begging to know what color her eyes were.

"They're so beautiful."

"Hmm?"

"Your eyes," he whispered. "I didn't imagine that they'd be this blue."

Another sob escaped her, and Adrien wasted no time cocooning her up against his chest, reveling in how her hair brushed against his jaw as she choked out a few more sobs on his shoulder.

"How did you discover that?" he asked once she had calmed.

"I saw my drawing on your desk," she answered. "One of the last ones I sent you."

He sighed. "I couldn't help myself. Your work inspired some of my poems. I was hoping to draw some inspiration from it again to write to you."

She chuckled, and he wished that she would laugh more often. It was a sound that he'd grown quite fond of and wanted to hear more often. "I was just about to give you another drawing. One of the scenery you described in your last poem."

"Did you enjoy it?" he asked. "I feel as though it's not my best work."

"It's still lovely," she assured. "Though I cannot lie, I much prefer your romantic works."

"I can give you those again."

"I would enjoy that very much."

* * *

Marinette had spent the rest of the day right at her husband's side. The announcement that dinner was ready was surprisingly unwelcomed as they were enjoying talking about everything and nothing. It felt like a whole other side to her husband had been exposed to her, and she was reveling in it.

After dinner, Adrien had caught hold of her hand and they had slipped away form the others in attendance at dinner. "Come with me?" he asked. "I want to show you something."

Marinette bit her lip. "What?"

"It's a surprise," he said with a smile that caused her heart to race.

It made it impossible to say no. "All right."

With a widening grin, he took her hand and led her outside. He called for a stable boy to saddle up two horses.

It didn't take long for the men to tack up the horses. Adrien lifted her up onto one of the horses before mounting up one of his own.

He then guided the horse off into the fading night, glancing back to ensure she was following. She lead the horse up beside him.

"Are you comfortable riding fast?" he asked.

Marinette nodded, prompting Adrien to kick his horse on. Marinette did the same, and they cantered off into the sunset.

And when they stopped, she couldn't help but gape at the scenery.

"This river," Adrien said, dismounting. "Is the place I envision when I wrote several of the poems I sent you, including the one you chastised me for for being too lewd."

Marinette allowed him to assist her down from the mount. "I…" She felt a blush return at the thought of that poem. "It's not lewd between two lovers," she said, certain she was blushing at this point. "But it was too much for a woman who wanted to be able to have sweet affections from a man she never met."

Surprise was clear on Adrien's face, and Marinette bowed her head in embarrassment.

But then he chuckled, cradling her chin and lifting her head to face him again. "I'm sorry to have caused you so much trouble, my lady. But…" A charmingly lopsided grin stretched across his face. "Seeing as you are now my wife, would you allow me to indulge in some of those behaviors."

It was hard to breathe as her heart thundered in her chest and her stomach twisted into knots. "You may," she answered breathlessly. Because this was her husband. Her love. Hers. Just as she was his. She had once wanted his affection like this, and now… now it seemed she would be rewarded with it.

If she didn't faint first.

He took her in his arms, and she was instantly reminded of their first night, dancing together under disguises.

But then… that meant…

"Adrien?"

"What is it, my love?"

She took a breath. "If you were dancing with me in the gardens that night, then… who did my maid dance with?"

"Your maid?" he asked, confused.

She nodded. "I sent her to pretend to be me so I could dance with you in the gardens. I'd been told the prince was waiting for me…" She trailed off, mostly because he was no longer listening.

He was laughing. Loud and freely. "I sent my butler," he said through his chuckles. "Because I simply couldn't leave you, Ladybug, stranded there, waiting in the gardens for me."

As soon as his words sank in, Marinette couldn't help but laugh with him, their dance to the song of the crickets coming to a complete halt.

"We are terrible!" she cried. "Leaving our fiancés with a servant so we could meet with each other."

"It really is horrible, isn't it?" Adrien agreed. "What a terrible first impression."

"We don't deserve our spouses."

"We certainly do not. How forgiving they are for our indiscretion."

"Such scandalous behavior."

Adrien calmed. "It is," he said. "And looking back, I would like to apologize for it. Leaving you with my butler. It was so rude of me."

Marinette took a moment to really think about it, how childish and immature she was to force her friend into such a situation. To lie to her fiancé so she could meet a man she'd never met yet loved from his letters. "I'm sorry, too."

Adrien gave her hands a squeeze, leaning forward to rest his forehead against hers. "It's almost not fair," he said. "That we were so lucky; that the two unfaithful royals end up with each other."

"A blessing, indeed," Marinette agreed.

"But I have to wonder," he said, pulling away. "Is it fair or honest that I only fell fully in love with you once you admitted you were Ladybug? Is that unfair to Marinette?"

Her lip found her way between her teeth. He asked such a good and honest question, and she couldn't help but wonder the same thing. Was if fair to Adrien that her love bloomed quickly only when she discovered her was Chat Noir? "I…" She swallowed, hoping her words would be steady. "I think… Chat Noir and Ladybug had been so close for a lot longer than Adrien and Marinette even know each other. And that… that it's understandable that Chat Noir would have strong feelings for Ladybug and vice versa. And I think, that considering that we are Chat Noir and Ladybug, that Adrien and Marinette could have fallen for each other, too. Given time."

Adrien regarded her carefully. "I would like to think the same," he said, his hand traveling from cupping her cheek to threading through her hair. "Because I feel as though I was slowly falling for Marinette, and that I honestly could have loved her deeply with time."

Marinette was very thankful he was holding her up with an arm around his waist, because her knees felt weak. "And I think," she responded. "That given time, I could have fallen in love with Adrien."

His smile was the brightest thing in the night. Brighter than the full moon. Brighter than any of the fireflies dancing in the field. "Marinette," he spoke reverently, cradling the back of her head in a tender way that sent her mind flying back to the second to last poem he'd sent her. And she couldn't help but wonder if this was the night she'd know just what such tender, loving affections felt like. "May I kiss you?"

Her answer was a simple one. "Yes."


End file.
